


On The Battlefield

by DracoCustos



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 05:44:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11329728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DracoCustos/pseuds/DracoCustos
Summary: A blowjob in the middle of a battlefield.





	On The Battlefield

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this shortly after seeing Star Trek Into Darkness in theaters, and it's sat in my Google docs ever since. Not sure why I'm putting it up now, but enjoy.

Kirk scanned the room with his phaser held out in front of him, his feet leading him backwards as he tried to get his back to a wall; one minute Harrison had been in plain sight shooting at them and the Klingons both, and in the time it’d taken him to duck behind cover to avoid being hit and come back up ready to shoot, he’d disappeared completely. Barely two steps from the nearest thing he could put his back to, a hand closed hard over his mouth, a body pressed against his back and the tip of a phaser dug into his ribs just under his right arm – this close even a strong stun would kill him. “Back up slowly,” a voice – quiet and rough, but strangely pleasant – whispered against his ear, and when he felt the person behind him take a step back he hesitated, the phaser digging harder into his ribs before he moved. He kept the phaser in his hands pointed in front of him and his eyes kept scanning the room from one side to the other; just because Harrison had him captive didn’t mean the Klingons stopped being a threat.

Harrison shoved him hard to the side, into an alcove made by rock and wreckage from one of the Klingon ships he’d destroyed, blocking his exit with a calm expression on his face. “I should have known Starfleet would not hesitate to follow me even to Qo’noS. Perhaps ch’Rihan next time,” his musings seemed almost giddy, even though his expression didn’t waver at all. “And there will be a next time, won’t there Captain? You would have used your torpedoes from the neutral zone if you intended to kill me.” Kirk waited until he put the phaser back into the holster on his belt and then he lunged, only for Harrison to catch his wrists in an iron-like grip and pin them against the nearest solid surface; he tried to bring a leg up to kick him, only to be crowded to remove any leverage he might have had. He tried to pull his wrists free and felt him squeeze them tighter, freezing when he felt the bones in his wrists shift slightly.

“Good boy,” Harrison all but purred at him, felt Kirk give one final hard tug on his hands and hummed in amusement at his inadvertent gasp of pain. “Is something the matter? Don’t you  _ like _ being at my mercy?” He shifts just slightly so that one of his legs slips between Kirk’s, the top of his thigh pressed against his half-swollen erection; Kirk presses just a little harder against his thigh before he can stop himself, and Harrison presses more firmly against him in response.

“Get off me,” Kirk growls, though the only response he gets is a thigh pressed harder against him and he feels himself harden further despite his best efforts to will it away; when Harrison moves in such a way that it presses his own growing erection against his hip bone, he abandons his thoughts of forcing him to let him go, watching his face carefully as he rocked against his thigh. His eyes narrow a bit and he grinds against Kirk in turn, letting out a breath that didn’t fit his still very calm expression. He does it again and Harrison presses against him to pin him against the wall, releasing one of his wrists in favor of pulling his head back at a nearly painful angle to bite his lip, just shy of drawing blood.

Kirk’s newly freed hand moves to grip the back of his head and pull him into a deep, open-mouthed kiss, sucking his tongue into his mouth with a groan. He quickly lost what little control he had over the situation when Harrison grabbed his wrist again, pinned both his hands against the wall over his head one-handed while the other gripped his hip hard enough to bruise and stroked a thumb lightly on the skin just over the waist of his pants. He tried to arch into the touch, but the hand on his hip held him firmly in place and a tongue stroked firmly against his; he tried to break for air and Harrison just pressed his lips more firmly to Kirk’s, nipping and sucking at his mouth until the captain moaned at him.

They broke apart with a shared frustrated groan, panting heavily in the dark; Kirk felt him let go of his wrists and his hands came to rest on his shoulders instead, shoving him down until he was on his knees in front of him. Something in the back of his mind wanted to object as he watched Harrison flick his pants open and shift them and his underwear down enough to free his cock from them, but any thought of actually doing so was gone when he shifted to relieve how tight his own had gotten and he didn’t need the hand on the back of his head to prompt him to lean up. He ran his tongue over the head of his already leaking cock before he took him in, teeth grazing carefully along his length and his cheeks hollowed around him as the hand shoved him down and pulled him back with unsurprising force; one hand slipped down to palm his own cock through his pants and moans around him, only for Harrison to yank his head back hard to glare down at him – his eyes cold as ever despite the way his pupils had dilated – forcing a pained gasp from him.

“Give me your hands,” he commanded, and Kirk felt compelled to behave, raising his arms over his head and feeling bones shift again as that iron-like grip closed around his wrists. His mouth closed around his cock again and felt his head smack the wall behind him when he thrust into him, groaning in pain and scraping his teeth a little harder than was necessary to make a point; Kirk heard him hiss out a curse over his head, his thrusts a bit less forceful though his hands closed a little tighter around his wrists. Breath came in harsh pants from somewhere over his head, punctuated now and then with half-growled curses as his tongue stroked the length of his cock while it slipped in and out of his mouth. He came with a final growled curse; Kirk swallowed around him as best he could, coughing towards the floor when he nearly managed to choke himself and all at once, the grip on his wrists was gone.

Harrison was leaning against the wall across from him when he stopped choking long enough to catch his breath, pants done back up as he watched through narrowed eyes. He’d gotten what he wanted and considered just leaving Kirk there, kneeling and painfully hard while bruises formed around his wrists, let him come up with an explanation why he didn’t have him in custody on his own. But he stayed where he was while his breathing evened out, only to reach out and grab a handful of his hair again, fist connecting with his face after he pulled him to his feet. Before Kirk could even begin to complain, a hand closed around his throat and there was movement in the corner of his eye – the rest of his crew just coming into view around the wreckage from one of the downed ships. “The torpedoes you mentioned in your threat, how many are there?”


End file.
